


The Hand Sings Weapon.

by orphan_account



Category: All For the Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Multi, Past Child Abuse, Perfect Court, Psychological Trauma, Raven!Andrew, Raven!Andriel, Raven!Neil, Slow Burn, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-06-05
Packaged: 2018-07-11 04:25:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7028449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Perfect Court Lineup; #1 Riko Moriyama. #2 Kevin Day. #3 Nathaniel Wesninski. #4 Jean Moreau. </p>
<p>Kevin recruits potential Ravens with Riko's supervision. He chooses Andrew Minyard, a midget with an anger problem, who signs with the Ravens to get out of the care system. When Kevin's hand gets broken, Jean Moreau replaces Kevin as Riko's partner. Riko places Nathaniel with the new recruit to test the pair of them, and their pain tolerances.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> What do you want with a man like that? While you are deciding, more men ride in. The hand sings _weapon_. The mind says _tool_. The body serves in the service of the mind, which is evidence of the mind but not actual proof. - _Landscape with a Blur of Conquerors_ , from _War of the Foxes_ by Richard Siken.

The darkness was threatening to swallow him again. He couldn’t allow that, not now. He had to watch as the blade was drawn loosely over the skin of his partner’s arm. He had to maintain eye contact, looking at the only colour in the room that wasn’t blood red or black. He had to monitor which cuts were the worst, which ones would require immediate attention when he got the chance to get his hands on them, which ones would require alcohol and a lighter as well as stitches and which ones could wait until afterwards when they were back in their room and the blood was dry. 

Andrew didn’t flinch as the knife cut into his partner’s flesh over and over, he didn’t blink as the blade was wiped clean, he didn’t breathe as Riko Moriyama watched his handiwork. Riko smiled, something between a serene happiness and an acknowledgement of a task well done. He threw a glance over to Andrew, “You should be careful next time you open your mouth, Minyard.”

The blonde didn’t respond to Riko, but a slight tilt of his chin showed that he had heard. Riko pocketed his knives; it was good enough for him that the fitting punishment had been received, he didn’t need to hurt anyone any more. He looked over the body at his feet again and sighed before turning on his heel and leaving the room.

The silence between the two boys was deafening. Andrew put his hands into his pockets and withdrew his emergency supplies – a lighter, a case of needles, a pack of dental floss and, from deep within his jacket, a small bottle of vodka. He set to work, removing one of the needles from the case and threading it with the floss. His hands were still, his eyes tracked each movement they made and still had time to occasionally check on the heap of human being on the floor.

He slipped the needle tip between his lips as he uncapped the vodka bottle and poured the liquid into the upturned cap. Andrew sparked the lighter and brought the tip of the needle to the flame, allowing it to heat to a glowing red before he plunged the needle into the half-filled cap of the vodka bottle. The hissing made his bones ache.

The boy on the floor shifted as much as he could bare to at this noise, knowing what it meant. He pointed Andrew towards the wound that hurt the most, a long cut across his abdomen. Andrew handed him the bottle of vodka and knelt beside him, needle already pressing into the skin at the edge of the wound.

Andrew stitched the wound carefully, fingers bloody and wet by the end of it. The bottle was being swigged from regularly as Andrew continued. It was half drunk by the boy and half poured onto him as Andrew continued. The stitches formed perfectly straight lines, pinching the edge of the flesh together. His hands were red to the knuckle, smears of the other boy’s blood were dragged up over his wrist and across his forearm.

It took nearly half an hour to get the worst of the cuts closed, but this had been an easy session and most of the wounds were just skin deep. Andrew pulled the boy to his feet and helped him move towards the showers.

They were in the Raven’s changing room; after Andrew’s first Riko-Mandated private practice, they’d both been dragged in here, where Riko had ripped the gear off of the other boy and torn his flesh up with those personalised knives. Kevin was already off the court because of what Riko had done to his hand – all over the possibility of Andrew Minyard joining the Perfect Court – and this was the punishment for being Andrew Minyard. They knew it was bullshit, but both of them had been punished now.

“I need a moment alone.” The boy reached one hand to the wall and left a bloody smear. The other hand was still desperately wrapped around the bottle of vodka. Andrew hoisted him up and turned the closest showerhead to a low pressure warmth. He deposited the near-dead weight and went back to the scene of the crime.

Using the torn fabric of the shirt that had been ripped off of the other’s frame, Andrew mopped up what blood he could. The cleaning crew would be told there was a nosebleed or something in here, something that could explain the fact that there was blood but not the sheer amount that was left smeared on the floor here. He ground his teeth as he balled the once-shirt and shoved it into his kit bag.

He padded back to the boy in the shower, who was slumped against the wall and allowing the lukewarm water to dribble down his back, over all the minor cuts. Andrew clicked his tongue as he pulled the boy out of the shower, roughly shoving a towel at him before shouldering the bag and sending a searching gaze around the room for anything else incriminating. Nothing jumped out at him, so he took the boy’s weight and they began moving out of the room.

“Minyard,” the boy turned his face to Andrew; their heads nearly touching, the tattoo on his cheek wasn’t visible from this angle, “thank you.”

Andrew shook his head. “It was my fault, Wesninski.”

The brown haired boy shrugged, “It wasn't and it doesn’t mean you have to look after me… you’re not even Perfect Court.”

The words stung for a second before Andrew let the wave pass over his head. He shrugged Nathaniel into a better position for moving and lead them to the hallway. “Shut up til we get to our room.”

Nathaniel nodded and moved as fast as he could. Riko had avoided leaving any lasting damage, but this was death by a thousand papercuts and it hurt like a bitch. Nathaniel wouldn’t complain though, he’d been through worse for Jean, and Minyard was – in Kevin’s opinion – Perfect Court worthy. It was a shame that because of Kevin, they’d gained the Perfect Court’s possible goalkeeper, and because of Riko’s temper, they’d lost a striker.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is an establishing chapter for Nathaniel's POV... Not much happens, sorry.

At some point in the night, Nathaniel woke up with an ache in every part of his body. He had blown out his muscles before Riko had taken the knives to him; his body wasn’t going to cope with the cuts very well but Riko didn’t care. Riko only wanted him to be able to play, and he was still able to play. This wasn't like Kevin's hand, this was like disciplining the dog for taking a dump on the carpet. This was within Riko's rights, and it was the best way to train his pet. Nathaniel understood why it had been done. 

“Minyard?” He whispered into the dark of their room. 

The other boy stirred. “Wesninski?” 

“Where are the painkillers?” 

There was a sigh in the darkness, then something was thrown at Nathaniel’s head. A box of painkillers, followed by a bottle of water being rolled to the edge of his bed. He was pretty glad the bottle wasn’t thrown too, he wasn’t sure he could catch it in this state. He fumbled with the box for a second, getting it undone in the darkness with numb fingers was enough of a challenge to put him off taking them at all, but eventually the cardboard relented and the blister packs of pills spilled onto his lap. Nathaniel groped blindly over the edge of his bed for the water, caught it between his fingertips and dragged it up beside him. 

Andrew sighed and rolled over to face the wall. He seemed unperturbed by the state of his roommate, which was odd for new Ravens. Although they wider team knew what happened with the Perfect Court, it was never spoken about. Riko didn't touch the rest of the team, that was Coach Moriyama's job and he undertook their care. Andrew didn't seem to care either way. Nathaniel could just about make out the boy's figure against the dark sheets and wall. He was short, but broad, and a year older than Nathaniel. His signing had been pretty public, as would be expected when a kid who was entirely unknown was joining the Ravens because the legendary Kevin Day had seen him play once. 

Nathaniel had no right to be jealous of all that attention, after all he was partnered with Jean before Kevin’s accident, and he was still Riko’s third in command… sort of. Jean was older, and therefore got more attention because he was already able to play for the Ravens, but Nathaniel was Riko’s ‘other brother’ after Kevin. He was the last of the trio to make it to the court, but Jean’s addition had stolen his thunder, and now Andrew was doing it to him as well. 

Not that he cared, of course. He couldn't bring himself to care about the fan's expectations of him, Nathaniel Wesninski, the third son of Exy. He was the little brother, the one that probably shouldn't have been brought to the court in the way that he was. He didn't enjoy the cameras shoved into his face, but he loved the feeling of being seen with his brothers - their matching tattoos in the same place, done with the same ink, made him feel part of something bigger than himself. That was what he was scared of. He didn't want the media to think that he was as replaceable as the other members of the Perfect Court, because he was bound to this, to Riko, by something more than the sport itself. 

The painkillers weren’t working, and Nathaniel’s head was getting spun in circles by the worry gnawing in his stomach. He had been sold to the Moriyama family to pay his father’s debts, and so far he’d racked up more debt than he was making back. A big news break would be the only way he could start to climb rankings, and the only way out of Class I Exy that kept him alive. His father had sold him under the impression that Nathaniel had worth as an Exy player, more so than as a continuation of the Butcher line, but the condition was that if Nathaniel failed in any way, the Butcher would kill him with his own hands. Nathaniel understood this, and he had understood this since Riko first told him it was play Exy or die. This, for him, was always going to be a game of life or death. The only reason that Nathaniel wasn't as broken as Kevin was that he had a debt to pay. 

The panic climbed slowly, reaching his heart so it slammed against his ribcage. His throat closed up and he could feel the knives being dragged across his flesh, see their glinting in the darkness around him. He stopped the thoughts, thinking about the room around him. The sheets under his body needed changing, there was blood on them. The air was cooled by the aircon that, if he tried, he could hear humming quietly. Another noise caught his ear. The other boy's breathing. 

Andrew’s breathing was soft and slow, shallow breaths that barely moved his chest. He seemed almost peaceful, wrapped in his blankets, pressed against the wall. Nathaniel matched his breathing to Andrew’s, let his eyes slide shut and let the darkness surround him. He was close to drowning in it, but that was better than struggling against the tide of fear and worry that was threatening to overwhelm him. He let himself succumb to the darkness instead. 

The morning came too soon. Nathaniel’s eyes opened groggily against the light from the hallway. Andrew was still asleep, those breaths hadn't changed in the hours they'd both been dead to the world. The same rhythm was playing out under Andrew's skin as it had all night. He wasn't Jean so there was no screaming at night, not yet anyway. Nathaniel kicked the covers off of his body, slid out of bed and examined the damage he could see in the dim lights. 

A long scratch from his crotch to the bottom of his ribcage was the worst of the lot, but the stitches had held all night. They were tight, spaced millimetres apart. Andrew had done a good job there. The others were all superficial, but still stung as he pulled them with his movements. He tensed his stomach, then his arms, then each leg. Apart from the blowout ache, he wasn’t in that much pain. He could still play, that was all that mattered. Riko wouldn’t let him take the day off, not for anything. Nathaniel knew that much. 

The boy reached for his drawer and pulled out his underwear – black – and socks – black. He had a folded pair of trousers – black – on his desk and shirts – also black – folded in the lower levels of the drawer. His boxers and socks went on almost immediately, no cuts in any of the places they touched. He tugged the polo shirt out of his drawer and slipped it on as gently as he could, feeling it rough against the edges of his cuts and the deep muscle ache of over exertion. Standing up took more effort than Nathaniel would’ve liked, but he wandered to the desk and picked up the trousers he had left there. 

While getting them on, he nearly fell over. His vision went blurry and he felt like he was going to be sick. He couldn't breathe. He was going to fall. His hand slammed against the desk. 

Andrew was suddenly awake. His eyes snapped open, his breathing hard. His unfocused gaze found Nathaniel, a black shadow against the dim hallway lights. He slowed his breathing, closing his eyes slowly and opening them as slowly. He made eye contact with Nathaniel, but said nothing. 

“I’m… Sorry.” Nathaniel said, buttoning his jeans up. 

Andrew didn’t reply. He threw the sheets back, revealing his red boxers and black nightshirt that was a size too big, and slid out of his bed. He was almost cute like this, all five feet of him looking rumpled and angry at the world. His hair was falling over his eyes as his bedhead adjusted to gravity. After gathering his clothes, he shot a look at Nathaniel. It took the boy a second to understand what Andrew wanted, privacy. Not something many of the Ravens were used to.

“I’m going to go to the court.” Nathaniel said, picking up his laptop from his desk and shoving it into his bag. “Don’t be late.” 

Andrew grunted, but said nothing. Nathaniel hoped he wouldn’t be late, Riko’s temper was already at peak because of Kevin’s insolence. Raven pairs weren’t really meant to split up from each other,  
but they could almost get away with it for short periods of time. Andrew turned his back to Nathaniel. 

The lights in the hallway were blinding compared to the dimness of his room. His bag tugged at his shirt as he swung it over his shoulder, tugging the cuts that stretched across his shoulder blades. He hissed through his teeth, knowing that it was only going to get worse as he moved more throughout the day. Training tonight would be hell. 

At the doors to the court, Nathaniel stopped. Behind him were the murmurs of the Ravens waking up, and in front of him was the silence of the empty court. He should probably hit the showers and get changed into his gear for morning practice, but he didn’t want to do that yet. The bright lights of the hallway were nothing compared to the lights that lit the black stadium before him. Shooting pain behind his eyes told him that he would need more painkillers by the end of the day, but he was ok for now. The empty court in front of him looked like home, it felt like safety, it felt like every day since he was ten years old. 

His hands pulled the bag off his shoulder, dumped it on a seat near the running track and combed through his hair. He needed it cut, Riko was going to complain about it getting too long for him to play well soon. Nathaniel’s body moved without his conscious thought; he warmed up, stretching his muscles with slow movements. He reached above his head, then to either side, and then down to his toes. He knocked his trainers against the ground before he started into a light jog. 

On his third lap of the court, Nathaniel looked up. Next to his bag, there was a blonde boy. Andrew was watching him with a blank expression on his face; his expression combined with the dark clothes against his pale skin and hair made him look more intimidating than he probably was. 

Probably. 

Nathaniel had one ability he took pride in; the learned ability to look at someone and size up the damage they could do. It had never failed him yet. Except for Andrew, who played jump rope with Nathaniel’s estimation of him. Occasionally, on the court, there was a ferocity in him that Nathaniel was almost scared of, yet at times like this he seemed nearly harmless. It was frustrating, that he could turn his emotions off so thoroughly that there was no real option other than to assume he was what he showed you; a heartless bastard. 

Nathaniel didn’t like it. He slowed down and walked the rest of his fourth lap, feeling sweat prickling across his skin. His cuts stung with the salt of his sweat but he breathed through it, feeling the  
stitches on his stomach pull and relax as his breathing slowed. 

“If you break any of those stitches,” Andrew’s eyes met his as he approached, “I am not going to redo them.” 

“I won’t need you to.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Training; ft, Jean and Kevin.

The court filled as Nathaniel sat beside Andrew, two seats between them. Nathaniel had pulled out his laptop and was registering himself for his classes for the day. Andrew would go to classes with the other members of the Ravens, while Kevin and Nathaniel would be left in the Nest to discuss strategy and maths. 

It was weird, Kevin not going to classes because of his hand. The Master didn’t want Kevin to be in public, not until the announcements were all made properly. So far there were only rumours of Kevin’s injury, but there was nothing concrete. The master would soon have a public interview about it, and that would thrash the publicity of Andrew’s signing. The mighty Kevin Day, fallen. 

Everything happened in an isolated bubble in Castle Nevermore. Nathaniel hadn’t actually left the building for longer than a few days since he was ten years old; the Master had never allowed it. Nathaniel understood, especially considering that his mother had run away to Europe with money owed to the Moriyama family, and Nathaniel was payment for that debt. Unlike Kevin, who had been gifted to Riko, and therefore got special treatment, Nathaniel was a demanded right in the eyes of most of the Moriyama family, no better than a dog. He was kept in his kennel unless there was reason to let him out. 

Nathaniel looked over at Andrew, who was looking down at his phone. He seemed to be playing a game of some kind, but Nathaniel couldn’t see the screen. It didn’t bother him, instead he looked over the boy in front of him. What was it that had made Kevin need Andrew as the Perfect Court goalkeeper? He seemed so utterly disinterested half of the time…

But, today was going to be the first practice that Kevin attended since the accident. Maybe it would bring something out in Andrew that Nathaniel just couldn’t see on his own? 

A hush fell amongst the gathered Ravens as Riko entered the court. He was dressed in skin tight black cloth, flanked by Jean and Kevin to either side of him. Despite the difference of nearly 7 inches between Riko and his adopted brother, his small frame was still the more cutting of the two. He was dangerous, Kevin was just damaged. 

Jean limped along beside them, masking his pain as best he could. It wasn’t just Andrew and Kevin that had been punished for their crimes, but Jean had suffered at Riko’s hands too… Nathaniel ground his teeth in frustration. Andrew had picked up on Jean’s limp, and was watching the boy carefully. Something in his frame tensed up as he watched Jean; he sat straighter, clenched his fists and swallowed hard. He looked blasé to the casual observer, but Nathaniel was trying to learn Andrew, and so kept a much closer eye on each of his movements. 

Kevin’s eyes swept the team, lingering on Andrew’s fair face before meeting Nathaniel’s gaze. He looked like a broken man, something was missing from his stance. He had lost his fire.

“Ten laps.” Riko announced. As one, the Ravens moved onto the track. 

They had all warmed up, all stretched, before this. Slowly, the mass thinned out into each pairing – Riko and Jean at the front, Nathaniel and Andrew following them, and the rest of the Ravens falling into their natural pairs until Kevin, the last runner, on his own. 

He jogged behind the group, not willing to be a part of it but still needing to get the same exercise. His jaw was set in a way Nathaniel didn’t like, something about him seemed only half there. Kevin was never only half aware of practice, normally he’d be at the front of the line, pushing Riko to go faster and harder. But now, he had snuck to the back and stayed there where he couldn’t be pushed around. 

By lap three, Andrew was starting to sweat. This was real torture, something designed to make it hard for Nathaniel and Jean – the two injured Ravens – to continue to be part of the team. Nathaniel felt his stitches tugging at his skin, but the surprising strength of the dental floss made them unlikely to pop.

Lap six had them all breathing hard, labouring breaths in the cool air-conditioned stadium. Even Riko didn’t look as good as he normally did during laps. Nathaniel’s blown out muscles protested this mistreatment, aching and creaking as he moved them. He would need to sit in a tub of ice soon, perhaps after breakfast he could convince Kevin to help him. 

Jean tripped up during lap nine, his foot scraped against the running track floor at a weird angle. His body was nearly upended, but he found his balance again as he bumped into Andrew. The shorter man did not seem too happy about being run into, but he allowed Jean to escape unharmed. The last time a Raven had fallen during a running drill, they’d been trampled. The players were not allowed to stop for anything, so none of them did. 

As the sweating mass of teenagers came to a stumbling halt, Nathaniel brushed his hand against Jean’s. He wanted Jean to know he was there for him, and that their previous year had meant something. He knew that the two mile run they’d just been on was not to keep the group in shape, but to punish those that were already hurting. 

Jean glanced up and caught Nathaniel’s eye. Gratitude welled there for a moment before Riko’s voice cut through it. 

“Go eat. Be back here during your free periods; all of the new intake need to practice drills.” 

Kevin looked up at Riko’s voice. He swallowed and caught Nathaniel’s eye. Nathaniel turned to Andrew, “Go eat, I’m going to practice with Kevin until the second serving, then I’ll eat.” 

Andrew quirked an eyebrow at Nathaniel. “I can’t leave you that long. I will wait.” 

Nathaniel’s heart stuttered in his chest. Maybe Riko had gotten to Andrew, told him to stay with Nathaniel no matter what. Maybe this was surveillance. It made sense, because by rights Nathaniel should have been Riko’s new partner, but instead Jean had been boosted and Nathaniel handed someone he didn’t know. 

But Andrew had asked him for privacy earlier. Surely Riko would never allow that? If Andrew was reporting to Riko, he would have followed every rule. 

“It will be me and Kevin on the court, if you want to stay.” Nathaniel half shrugged, “You don’t have to.”

Andrew’s face was characteristically disinterred, his full lips turned down at the corner. He shot a look at Kevin, his eye catching the lights above them. “I do.” 

Nathaniel nodded slowly. This was his ritual; ever since he could remember, he and Kevin would perfect drills before breakfast. It used to be how he earnt his food, getting the drills perfect; ever since he had become a satisfactory pupil for the master, he’d been asked to give more than satisfactory, he had to be perfect. The master had practiced all the new variations on Kevin and Nathaniel, making them work until they couldn’t move any more. Riko was often on the side-lines watching, but occasionally when they were younger he had joined in on the drills. Riko, unlike the others, had been able to choose to join them. 

Kevin was waiting for him by the tunnel into the innards of the stadium, back the way they’d all come into the court. Nathaniel pushed through the doors and headed for the changing rooms, he’d gear up and be back in a second. Kevin wasn’t going to gear up, he couldn’t with his arm in the cast. 

“Andrew is joining us.” Nathaniel muttered as he walked past the taller boy, “He won’t leave me.” 

Kevin didn’t react. Nathaniel walked past him, following after the other Ravens until they walked past the changing rooms. Nathaniel ducked inside and padded to his locker. They didn’t have locks on them, but the Ravens didn’t steal. They shared what they had, but never stole. 

He nudged open the door of his locker with his foot and removed his gear. As he strapped himself into it, his cuts screamed their protest. His muscles hurt, a deep ache that wasn’t going to go away for the rest of the day, and his breathing was still too heavy and hard, but he needed to be back on the court to feel normal. 

Grabbing his racket, he stormed back onto the court, this time using the tunnel that lead directly to the court. Kevin was already on the side lines, placing the cones across the white paint. Andrew was sat on one of the benches, out of earshot but within sight. Kevin threw the ball to Nathaniel, who caught it with the practiced ease of ten years of training. There were ten cones lined up, and ten balls on the court. 

“9, 3, 2, 6, 7, 5, 8, 1, 10, 4.” Kevin said, his voice as calm as anything. His hand was loose and limp by his side, Nathaniel kept glancing at it. His body ached all over, but Kevin couldn’t even pick up a racket any more. 

To distract himself, Nathaniel let his body feel the drills. He was expected to remember the order, unlike the other Ravens who would have their orders dictated to them as they slammed the cones down. He hit each one, knocking every cone in the right order. Kevin set them up again, and called out a different order. And again. And again. 

They stopped abruptly. Andrew was slamming on the glass with an open palm. He pointed to the door. Kevin checked his watch. “Breakfast.” 

Nathaniel nodded. “I’ll meet you there?” 

Kevin glanced at Andrew. An expression that Nathaniel couldn’t read. Something twisted in his gut. He’d seen Kevin scared of people before, like Riko or Coach Moriyama, but this was a look he couldn’t place. He was, it seemed, checking with Andrew if that was ok. The blonde didn’t reply, his face remained expressionless. 

“Riko will expect to see you there.” Kevin said, his voice steady, “We will all get in trouble if you’re late.” 

Nathaniel knew this, but he didn’t say so. He probably should have expected Kevin to be more scared of Riko and Riko’s rules now, but Kevin had been scared before. More scared than Nathaniel had ever been. 

The only thing that had confused him was why Kevin had looked at Andrew as he said it.


End file.
